


Whiskey and Sangria

by grey2510



Series: Misc SPN One Shots (<10k words) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexuality, Castiel (mentioned only) - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a few too many drinks at the bar with Charlie and finally confesses he might have feelings for a certain angel. </p><p>Takes place at any point after 9x10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiskey and Sangria

Dean hadn’t been drunk like this in a while. Not that he hadn’t been drunk, of course—this was Dean Winchester, high functioning alcoholic, we were talking here—but it had been, hell, _years_ since he’d been a happy drunk.

He blamed it on Charlie. If he’d had any sort of normal childhood, he might have said Charlie was so upbeat that she could cheer up Eeyore. But he hadn’t, so instead he just signaled to the bartender that they needed another round with a big grin on his face. The bartender, a pretty brunette with large dark eyes, gave both of them flirty smiles as she put a whiskey in front of Dean and a red sangria in front of Charlie.

“Dunno how you can drink something with so much fruit in the way,” Dean teased, clinking glasses with hers.

“You dunno what you’re missing, dude. Just give it a try.” She pushed the drink across the bar. Dean mock recoiled, holding up the whiskey like some sort of shield.

“Hey, I got a reputation to uphold here.”

“Uh huh. You do realize that you’re in a bar surrounded by people who just spent a weekend hearing me call you a handmaiden? What reputation do you think you have left?”

Dean rolled his eyes, then scanned the room. Sam was a few seats away, chatting with another member of the Queen of Moondoor’s army, his back turned to Dean and Charlie.

“Alright, fine,” Dean conceded and took a sip of the sangria. He kind of hated to admit it, but it was pretty damn good.

“So?”

“You ever tell Sammy about this, we’re done.”

Now it was Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes, but instead she caught the bartender looking at the two of them again. Dean followed Charlie’s gaze, and they both flirtatiously cocked an eyebrow and smiled at the same time at her. Sam came over and clapped Dean on the back.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head back to the motel. Want to catch up on some research before turning in.”           

“Nerd,” Dean supplied with a grin.

“Glass houses, Dean.”

In response to that, the older Winchester just raised his whiskey glass, then took a swig.

“I think we’re gonna stay for a bit. We’ll get a cab back to the motel,” Charlie said, answering Sam’s unasked question. Sam nodded and held out his hand to Dean, who sighed and dug out his car keys.

“Be good to Baby.”

“Yeah, alright. Don’t make an ass out of yourself.”

“No promises.” Dean turned back to Charlie once Sam had left. “So, that bartender’s been givin’ ya the ol’ once over. Gonna do anything about it?”

“She was giving it to both of us. How come you’re not jumpin’ at the bit?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Dean said and before Charlie could rebut, he continued, waggling a finger over his glass, “and I asked first.”

“Ok, so I may be kinda maybe not really seeing someone I met at a convention last month.”

“Really now?” Dean smirked approvingly.

“I was there as Ginny Weasley—way easier to pull off with my hair—but she was there as Hermione, so ya know, one thing led to another, and we’ve seen each other a couple times since then…”

“Awesome.” Dean and Charlie once again clinked their glasses.

“So. My turn. How come you’re not making your move, mister?”

Dean had kind of hoped she’d forget to ask, so instead of responding right away, he just knocked back the rest of his whiskey. This time, he flagged down a different bartender, an older woman who looked like she was wondering what she did wrong in another life to get her stuck serving a group of people who had to be asked repeatedly not to bring giant foam swords into the bar. She plunked down the whiskey without ceremony and moved on to the next patron.

“Dean?”

“Uh, yeah, I dunno. Just not feeling it, I guess. You know how it is: can’t get too attached in this life.”

“Dean, it’s a hookup, not a life commitment.”

Dean just shrugged and spun his glass a bit on the bar. Charlie let the issue settle for the moment, and she concentrated on digging out an orange slice from her sangria with the straw. The fruit was tart and boozy and delicious, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction for her to miss the far-away look on her friend’s face. She frowned. It was rare for Dean to be in such a good mood and she was afraid he was slipping away from their weekend of fun and back to the day-to-day weight of the world he carried. In desperation, she launched into a story from the convention, involving her Hermione, a bottle or two of tequila, a few Doctors and companions cos-players, and an ill-fated attempt to convince random passersby that one of the last remaining phone booths in the city was really bigger on the inside.

“I mean, it sounded like a good idea at the time…”

“Well, yeah, until you and Hermione forgot the booth was fucking see-through…” Dean laughed.

“Hey. Tequila. Hermione. Don’t judge. Plus it didn’t really get out of hand until the guy dressed as Captain Jack started taking the role a liiiiiitle too seriously and started hitting on anyone and everyone. Thank god we didn’t have a Spike there or it would’ve just gotten worse. Seriously, give a guy a long coat and immortality—even if just pretend—and everybody’s suddenly all up ons.”

“Heh, I know what you mean,” Dean said without really thinking, a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes a bit glazed. It might have just been from the alcohol. Yep, definitely the alcohol. Definitely not the mention of a long coat and immortality…

Another swig of whiskey.

Too late. Charlie had caught what he had said and his expression.

Now the debate—wait until she called him on it and asked? Or just bite the bullet and confess?

At this point, the whiskey made the decision for him.

“Cas has a nice coat. Or he did. The new one kinda sucks. I miss the old one.”

Charlie just raised her eyebrows; she couldn’t believe Dean was actually saying this and she was terrified of scaring him off the topic. “What happened to the old one?”

“I think he lost it when he became human. Probably didn’t have much use for it anymore. But, I dunno, it’d been through a lot. The Apocalypse. Leviathans. The trunks of all those cars we stole—borrowed. Purgatory. Yeah. That coat saw some serious shit.”

“The trunks of all the cars?”

“Yeah, well, it washed up on shore after we thought Cas’d died. It was like Bobby’s flask—couldn’t let it just get thrown out.”

“Uh huh.” Charlie took a hearty drink from her sangria, steeling herself for what she was about to do. Go big or go home. “You know that’s like straight out of a chick-flick, right? Carrying that coat around with you?”

“What? No, chick-flicks are…” Dean shuddered at the thought of anything remotely related to him being compared to one of those saccharine monstrosities. “I guess it was a bit ridiculous,” he eventually admitted.

“You _like_ him.” Charlie was pretty sure that if anyone else had said it or if Dean hadn’t consumed a frat party’s worth of booze, he probably would’ve had some choice words in reply. Instead, a goofy smile crept onto his face.

“Ehhh, mebbe I do. I mean, it’s Cas, ya know? He might be kind of a nerdy little angel, but…”

“I love how you’re probably the only person in the world who would call one of the most powerful beings in the universe ‘a nerdy little angel.’”

“But he is! Like when we had that cartoon case I told you about and he tried to correct my pronunciation when I said ‘wascally wabbit’.”

“D’awww.”

“Shaddup.” Dean’s latest glass was empty again, as was Charlie’s. “Another?”

“Meh, what the hell. But you should switch to beer or something.”

Dean nodded, but instead ordered two sangrias.

“Cheers.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> Check out my other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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